


Best Ever

by Sheepnamedpig



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A-list actor!Stiles, M/M, Matchmaking, Mostly Dialogue, Peter is everyone's life coach, Pining, fangirl!Derek, from nosy older sisters, inappropriate gifts, living Hales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 21:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheepnamedpig/pseuds/Sheepnamedpig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a famous actor. Derek is not a fangirl because he is not a girl. But he is sorta stupid in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Ever

**Author's Note:**

> Italic'd text is Derek watching interviews, in case it's not clear.  
> Unbeta'd.

“ _So did you watch the original Teen Wolf movie?”_

“ _Oh yeah. Even though the remake takes an entirely different spin on the story, I wanted to get a feel for how things could have been, if everything had gone just right. But I think that the writers did a crazy good job balancing the philosophical drama and the teenage shenanigans.”_

“ _Do you think you and Scott have much in common?”_

“ _Not really. I mean, I'm really grateful for all my roles, but they've kept me so busy that I never got a chance to go to high school like a normal kid. That and I'm not a werewolf.”_

“ _Do you wish you could be a werewolf?”_

“ _During some of the action scenes, I totally did. JJ drove us really hard during filming, and he's great, working with him was amazing, but sometimes we'd do an action scene just a ton of times and by the end I would be so sore from running around and playing basketball and doing the choreographed fights that I was just about ready to get down on my knees and beg God to turn me into a werewolf just so I could do the superhuman healing thing.”_

“ _That sounds pretty inte-”_

“Oh my god, Derek. Are you watching that again? Didn't that movie come out like, two years ago?”

“Shut up, Laura! Leave me alone!”

“Mom! Derek's fangirling again!”

“I am _not_ fangirling.”

“Derek, honey, why don't you take a break from the computer. It's so nice outside.”

“Yeah, Derek.”

“Mo~om!”

“And while you're out, why don't you go to the store and pick up some shrimp.”

“Ugh, Mom!”

“Shrimp? Mom, why can't we have chicken?”

“We had chicken last night, Laura. Derek, here's your keys and my card. Put some pants on and get out before I tell your Dad to turn off the internet.”

“Yeah, Derek, get a move on. If my internet gets turned off because of you, I'm totally going to kick your ass.”

“Language, honey. Derek, I don't see you clothing yourself.”

“Ugh, fine! Now get out of my room!”

“Get three pounds, honey, your Uncle Peter is coming for dinner.”

“Uncle Peter?”

“Wait, does that mean-ugh, Laura, get off!”

“Fangirl! Fangirl! Who's Stiles' creepiest fangirl? DEREK HALE!”

“I'm not a fangirl! Mom! Tell Laura to stop calling me a fangirl!”

“Honey, you get me my shrimp and we'll talk.”

“DAD, TELL LAURA TO STOP CALLING ME A FANGIRL!”

“DEREK, DO WHAT YOUR MOTHER TELLS YOU.”

“Derek the creepy fangirl!”

“Fine! I'm going! Dammit, Laura!”

&&&

Derek is threading through the produce section when he sees a bright red hoodie out of the corner of his eye. He glances at it, then does a double take.

It's Stiles Montgomery. Or as Beacon Hills knows him, Stiles Stilinski, the Sheriff's famous kid.

He ducks behind a display of apples and whips out his cell phone.

**omg laur stiles is in the grocery store looking at celery**

**what srsly? dont blieve u**

**this must be why uncle peter is back in town. stiles must have a break in filming so hes come back to see his dad or something**

**r u stlkng him? stlkr fangirl. where r u hiding bhind**

**the apple display. and im not stalking him. im texting you about him being in the grocery store**

**orly? n whats he doin rite now?**

**dont know. i lost sight of him**

**plz dont stlk him thru the store**

**im not stalking him jfc. just curious**

**creeper. omg ur such a creeper derder**

**am not**

“Excuse me.”

Derek's head snaps up. His phone buzzes in his hand with Laura's reply but he's too busy staring like a yokel at _Stiles Montgomery nee Stilinski_. Who apparently wants to look at the apples, which Derek is still crouched in front of.

_Be cool. Be cool. Please for the love of god be cool._

Derek shoves himself to his feet and trips over an untied shoelace. His werewolf reflexes are the only things that allow him to turn it from a humiliating faceplant into a burst of momentum as he all but sprints away.

He makes it home with his three pounds of shrimp, face burning red with embarrassment.

The first thing he hears as he gets through the door is, “So what did he smell like?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Laura. Leave me alone!” He storms past her, pausing just long enough to shove the shrimp into his mother's hands before running up the stairs and barricading himself in his room.

“Laura, dear. Leave your brother alone,” he hears his mother say. He sighs in relief. His mom is the _best_. He loves his mom the most out of anyone in the world. “Just because he's twenty-seven and still a virgin and has been in love with Stiles since high school doesn't mean you can torment him about it.”

Correction. His mother is the _worst_.

“And leave him be until dinnertime. I told Peter to invite the Stilinskis over for dinner tonight, so Derek will need his energy for the ordeal.”

His mother is the _devil_.

&&&

“ _There've been some rumors going around about you and Megan Fox. Any truth to them?”_

“ _Ha! No. I've only met her like, twice. I've heard she's pretty cool though.”_

“ _And pretty_ hot _.”_

“ _Yeah, that too.”_

“ _Not your type, then?”_

“ _Well, maybe. I haven't gotten to know her at all, so I couldn't say.”_

“ _Is there anyone who definitely is your type?”_

“ _I'm pretty equal opportunity, actually. And if you're asking if I have a girlfriend, the answer is no.”_

“ _How about a boyfriend? Or is that too 'equal opportunity' for you?”_

“ _When I fall in love, that's all that matters. If it happens to be a guy, then it happens to be a guy.”_

“ _So you're officially bisexual, then?”_

“ _Equal opportunity, if you really want to throw labels around.”_

“We ended up blacklisting that guy. What an asshole.”

“Jesus, Uncle Peter. Warn a guy.”

“You excited for tonight?”

“Ugh. Don't remind me.”

“You know, most people are a little more eager to meet their objects of admiration.”

“He's not my 'object of admiration'. He's-he's...”

“He's what, Derek?”

“Ugh. I don't know.”

“You know, your mom is worried about you. Laura too.”

“Christ. Please don't start with all that. At least Dad understands.”

“That's true. But your father didn't wait until he was twenty-seven to _talk_ to your mother.”

“Well, my father isn't seven years older than my mother.”

“Touche. But tonight's your chance, Derek. And don't just sit at the table and stew in silence. I've spent too much time talking you up to him for you to blow it like you did last time.”

“There were extenuating circumstances!”

“Getting your wisdom teeth out three weeks prior is not 'extenuating circumstances'. Especially not for someone who healed from the surgery in less than a day. Stiles is coming and you're going to talk to him, so shower, wear something flattering, and try to smile naturally.”

“This is going to be awful.”

“Buck up, kiddo. No seriously, do. You're being pathetic and it's starting to drag me down too.”

“Thanks a lot, Uncle Peter.”

“Always glad to help.”

&&&

“ _So you've seriously never dated?”_

“ _Nope! Just haven't found that one person yet.”_

“ _What about crushes? Any crushes? Oooh, what's that expression mean?”_

“ _I-once, yeah.”_

“ _What happened?”_

“ _It wasn't mutual.”_

“ _Well, whoever she was, she's obviously blind. I hope you find that one special person.”_

“ _Me too.”_

“Derek, honey, the Stilinskis are here!”

“Sheriff.”

“Sam.”

“Hey, kiddo! Man, you've filled out! Last time I saw you, you were about as thick as a bean sprout!”

“Action films, what can I say. RDJ is absolutely crazy in the gym.”

“Stiles, sweetheart, I hope you got me that man's autograph.”

“Right here, ma'am! To the lovely Talia Hale.”

“Peter. Thanks again for looking after my son.”

“He's a good kid. A handful to manage, but a good kid.”

“Derek! There you are. Come here and say hello to Stiles and his father!”

“Sir.”

“Derek. I hear you're applying for a job with that new start-up in town. I know a guy down south who could use someone with your skills.”

“Talia, how about we move this to the dining room?”

“Of course! Goodness. Let me get your coat, Sheriff. Laura, if you would-”

“Wow. Stiles. You're _ripped_.”

“I wasn't kidding about the RDJ thing. I practically killed myself trying to keep up with him.”

“Where down south?”

“No way. Isn't he like, fifty?”

“LA. I can get you his number, if you want.”

“Okay. I mean, thanks. I'd be grateful.”

“Stiles, honey, why don't you sit between Laura and Derek.”

“Almost, yeah. He's like, late forties or something.”

“Tally, I'll sit next to Derek. You sit next to Sam and the Sheriff can sit between Sam and Laura.”

“You sure, Peter?”

“So, Laura, how have you been?”

“Pretty good, Sheriff. Just finishing up my PhD.”

“Sam, honey, help me with these plates.”

“Yo, Derek. Long time no see.”

Derek freezes. Then unfreezes as Peter digs the claws of his toes into his nephew's foot, not quite breaking the skin.

“Uh. Yeah.”

“I didn't know you liked apples.”

“I don't.”

“Oh.”

Peter presses down harder, drawing blood. Laura, Talia, and Sam Hale's noses twitch in unison.

“I like pears.”

“Yeah, me too. Peter used to bring me here to pick them from your pear tree when I was like, ten.”

“I remember.”

“You do? Wow. That was seriously forever ago. You were in high school, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, uh. How've you been?”

“Good.” Peter grinds his heel down on Derek's toes. “Busy. Doing work. We started on a new project recently so we've been doing a lot of design work. And content creation.”

“No offense or anything, but I always thought you'd be a lacrosse star or something.”

“I liked making websites better.”

“Derek just likes being on his computer all the time.”

“ _Uncle_.”

“Hey, who doesn't? I spend way too much time on Tumblr.”

“And Twitter. And Facebook. And Livejournal. Especially Twitter. Don't think I haven't noticed, Stiles.”

“What? I like to interact with my fans. They're awesome. Even the weird ones. Right, Derek?”

Laura snorts into her glass.

“Uh.”

Derek wants to bury himself under the casserole and never come out.

&&&

The end of the evening can't come too soon, in Derek's humblest of opinions. When his Mom brings out the cheesecake, the Sheriff's eyes dart a guilty glance at Stiles. Or rather, where Stiles had been sitting ten minutes prior.

“Where's Stiles?”

“Bathroom,” Derek answers, and five pairs of werewolf ears hone in on Stiles' heartbeat upstairs. Four pairs of eyes turn to look at Derek.

Stiles is upstairs _in Derek's room_.

“I'll go see what's keeping him,” he blurts, jumping up from the table.

_Shitshitshitshitshit goddamn posters!_

His hears the tinny speakers of his laptop as he eases open the door to his room and shuts it behind him:

“ _What happened?”_

“ _It wasn't mutual.”_

“ _Well, whoever she was, she's obviously blind. I hope you find that one special person.”_

“ _Me too.”_

Stiles is standing at Derek's desk, watching the interview play.

“Hey, Derek,” he says, glancing over his shoulder.

“Stiles.”

“Sorry I snooped. I was just kinda curious about you.”

Derek doesn't say anything. He doesn't know if there is anything _to_ say. Especially to the person whose face appears at least a dozen times, plastered all over Derek's walls.

“Y'know, I was so sure you hated me. Like, thought I was annoying and wanted nothing to do with me.”

“I don't.”

“Yeah. I noticed,” Stiles says, nodding at the wall of posters over Derek's bed.

“Sorry.”

Stiles laughs. “Dude, what for?”

Derek fidgets with the cuff of his shirt. He can feel his face burning up. “I don't know. Christ, you probably think I'm a freak.”

“Nah. My fans are awesome. Even the freaky ones. Remember?”

Derek nods, too embarrassed to speak.

Silence stretches out long enough to be awkward.

“Hey. Can I--just--can I try something?” Stiles asks. Derek hears his heartbeat speed up.

“Sure.”

“Okay, um. Close your eyes.”

Derek does, but he can still hear Stiles' heartbeat thrumming, getting closer and closer until Derek is enveloped in Stiles' airplane-pottingsoil-peanutbutter scent. A pair of lips brushes against his, presses hesitantly, and Derek breathes in, pressing back. It's chaste, first-kiss shy and a little sticky from Stiles' lip balm. It's perfect. It's _Stiles_.

Hands come up to rest on Derek's shoulders, gripping as Stiles angles his head and kisses deeper. Derek's own hands alight on Stiles' waist.

He pushes Stiles back.

“Stiles-”

“I'm crazy about you. Like, totally gone on you. For just about ever. Since I was ten. No joke.”

“Oh. Same. Except, not since I was ten because I didn't know you,” Derek says, herding Stiles away from the door. “Since I was seventeen. It's just-” he reaches back and twists the door handle.

Four Hales and a Sheriff tumble into the room, not a one of them looking ashamed for eavesdropping so blatantly.

“Congratulations!” Laura shouts gleefully, holding out a box of condoms with a cheap bow stuck on top. Taped to the front of the box is a bottle of flavored lube.

Talia Hale snatches it from her daughter who snatches it back and tosses it to Stiles. “Laura Hale. I've half a mind to turn you over my knee." She sighs. "But I am happy for you, boys.”

“Long overdue, I'd say,” Peter drawls. Sam Hale nods.

“Welcome to the family, Derek,” the Sheriff says. “I'll get you that number for my friend in LA. Stiles will be staying up here for a few months, but it's better to get everything set up well in advance, just in case.”

“And now we'll leave you alone!” Laura cackles, herding her fellow eavesdroppers back out of the room. “Try not to break my precious baby brother with your manly muscles, Stiles!”

Stiles grins. “I'll try not to!”

Derek claps his hands to his cherry-red face. “Jesus fucking Christ, Laura.”

Laura shuts the door with a firm snap and shouts through it, “I'll take the elderly folk out on the town for a late-night movie. You two have fun!”

Peter yelps in offense as they all troop down the stairs, noisily collecting their coats and shoes as they argue over what movie to see. And then they're gone, pulling out of the driveway and out onto the street.

Stiles steps into Derek's space and kisses him again, on the mouth, the chin, the cheek. Derek pulls him closer, his hands splayed on Stiles' back. And Laura was right, Stiles is _ripped_. And _hard_. Down there. Wow. Stiles is _hard_ for _Derek_.

Blunt teeth worry at Derek's earlobe and he gasps.

“So Peter might have implied you were a virgin,” Stiles whispers. Derek nods, embarrassed, his hands fisting in the back of Stiles' shirt. “Oh. Awesome. That's-that's insane hot. Wow. We should get on the bed because we've only got three hours and I'm totally going to abuse your werewolf stamina, okay?”

And of course Stiles knows. Because Stiles is Stiles and flawfree. Then Stiles is pushing Derek down onto his bed and sucking a hickey into Derek's throat and everything is just the best _ever_.

**Author's Note:**

> I will never, ever write concurrent conversations again. Never. Especially with more than three participants.  
> BTW, I pulled 'Montgomery' out of my ass as Stiles' mom's maiden name.


End file.
